


how to break a curse

by NyarlathotepShaggedYerMum



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Curses, Multi, Vampires, Werewolves, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyarlathotepShaggedYerMum/pseuds/NyarlathotepShaggedYerMum
Summary: A witch’s anger is a terrible thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going for a disjointed timeline here. So the timeline goes on with the occasional flashback or two.
> 
>  
> 
> This is a… multi-chaptered thing with a Witch!Bella AU. End pairing is Bella/Edward/Jacob. Also, I’ve added some of my personal headcanons about the imprinting thing and made sure to give Leah a happy and justified ending because she does not deserve the shite she gets in the books.
> 
> A little Dark-ish Bella, but not full on 2edgy4me.

Bella's first spell was relatively simple. She was eight years old with gum stuck in her hair while she sobbed in her mother's hug. She remembered a boy who teased her and always made her cry before going home, wrecking her books and her bag after school.

She remembered biting her tongue hard enough to taste salt and pennies in her mouth, hot air coming out of her nose. Bella remembered her nails digging hard enough on her palms to leave streaks of red on her hands. Her rage was a loud pounding thing, beating like war drums behind her ears, in her chest. She wanted to hiss curses at him, make his life as miserable as hers, make him  _ understand _ . Bella wanted to spend all her anger and cast a curse on one insignificant boy who probably didn’t truly understood or knew the world around him and the people that lived in it. She already bled, in her mouth and in her hands. Bella knew that blood was more than enough to cast a powerful curse to the point of being unbreakable, unbreakable without a sacrifice,

In the end, however….

Bella remembered saving her tears in a handkerchief and then tied it up around her hand, ‘sorry’ scrawled with a Sharpie on her palm.  She remembered gripping his hand with strength made out of her anger and the need for him to be sorry for hurting her. Bella can still feel the bones of his wrists creaking, his muscles and sinew straining against her grip. He was crying and begging, but Bella had long forgotten what it was that he said.

She does remember feeling relieved and at peace when he left her alone after, no longer seeking her out to torment her.

Bella was so proud, then, to have cast her first spell. Charlie and Renee bought her a gallon of chocolate almond ice cream, her favourite. It took Bella a week to eat all of it, half a bowl at breakfast, and then one and a half after dinner. The best part was Renee letting Bella learn two more spells from her grimoire, a collection of spells passed down from mother to daughter, and in the rare occasions - fathers to sons.

“Witches make all kinds of spells,” Renee was crushing sage and rosemary with a mortar and pestle, a tea bag made of linen already half-full with herbs. Her magic was the quiet kind, like water that ran deep. There was no static or ozone in the air, nor was there a strange prickling Bella had long associated with storms. Just a quiet flow of power coursing through its intended path. “Spells for strength, beauty, love… All spells run two ways, the enchanter and the enchanted.”

Bella did remember regret a day or two later, fleeting as it was, like her own spell bled over to her. It didn’t last long, however, the spell having ran its course. Once her old tormentor achieved true regret, the spell wore off and he approached her to apologise. It was over ten years already, and the boy had long gone to a different state to a different school with a different outlook in life.

At the end of it all though, was that Bella learned that curses always went two ways. Curses were always born out of anger or despair, when a witch was pushed too far. Curses always meant that the cursed will be sharing it with the caster.   
  


As Bella stared down at James, with sigils painted on her nails and  _ “Burn” _ scrawled with a sharpie on her palm as her blood dripped down her arm and made the spell glow blue, she can only think of what it must be like, for the boy who lived past her curse.

Strange to think of it now, as it were an old regret.

James was screaming, writhing in agony in the wooden floorboards. Magic held him down, invisible chains from glyphs Renee had long painted in the floorboards. A focusfor grace and strength, she said then. Now, it was a focusto protect.

Bella’s magic had always have been a chaotic thing, like a lightning storm. The air was thick with ozone, thick with blood in her mouth. She spoke no spells, even if her anger was thunder pounding in her ears. She dared not curse him, not yet, because he hadn’t touched Renee (not yet, not ever) and a witch’s anger is only for the truly deserving.

Still, words spilled out of Bella’s mouth.

“You thought I was prey,” she started, blood dripping down her lips. Everything was red. “Just because I wasn’t a vampire, and because I was just some snot-nosed teenaged  _ girl _ . You thought I can’t hurt you.”

James screamed, incoherent.

“But you’re wrong.” Bella marched closer, her hand glowing with magic. Static ran up and down her arm, made the hairs on her arm stand. Her magic surged and an invisible wind billowed within the studio, phantoms of girls dancing spun around her in awkward circles, girls who were just growing, girls who were trying to learn to be graceful.

Everything was floating now, Bella’s energy blowing against her hair. It floated with a life of its own, like black tendrils.

“You were wrong,” Bella went on, taking a deep breath. Like a snake, she gripped James’ throat hard and  _ squeezed _ , his bones grinding against her strength. “So, you will burn.”

Then everything was on fire. James, the floor, the walls, Bella.

Black began to spread from James’ throat, his marble white skin now marred with ashes. It was like watching paper burn, the flames licking at every inch as dust followed the path.

Bella cried out, the heat on her hand spreading up to her arm to her chest, flares exploding across her skin. Bella can fear her tears threatening to fall, the agony of flames licking every inch of her skin as James crumbled away. She knew that she was untouched, but a curse always went two ways. It may not be the be all end all of all the curses she cast (her third, actually), but it hurt just the same.

Then James was no more, nothing but a pile of ashes glittering against fluorescent lights. The flames were gone, and so was the static.

Drained, Bella slumped down on the floor, the wood creaked beneath her weight. The pain was still there, white-hot on her skin, but it wasn’t as horrible as it was earlier, as if her very insides were being liquified. The blood that dripped down from her bitten wrists were gone, the bite marks cauterised with magic. Her joints felt like jelly, and Bella was too tired to get into a more comfortable position.

The silence stretched, the air no longer thick with magic. Moonlight filtered through one of the cracks of the covered windows, casting long shadows.

Eventually, the studio doors burst open with seven vampires marching in. Bella laughed, a little shocked that it took them this long to find her.

“Bella!” Edward was quick to get to her side, inspecting every inch of her, looking for injuries. He saw James’ bite mark, his eyes growing hard at the sight, yet there was a hint of confusion to see blackened scars instead of silver crescents. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” Bella rasped out, her throat dry and rough. As if she breathed smoke. “James is dead.”

She met seven confused glances, she smiled.

“You’re not the only one with a secret, Edward.” Bella held out her hand. The spell was still there, even if the it had long ran its course. With just a tiny push of magic, a tiny flame sprouted on her fingertips, like candlelight.

Carlisle froze, finally recognising her for what she was. “You’re a witch.”

“I am.” Bella leaned on Edward. The vampire was far from a warm body to take comfort in, but Bella had enough heat for the two of them. “So was my mother, and so was her mother, and on and on…. We could probably trace it back to somewhere in Europe.”

She can feel Edward’s hurt, stony as he was. His voice held a hint of betrayal when he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me? I told you I was a vampire, didn’t I?”

“Just because you told me what you are, doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do so,” Bella snapped. She sighed when she actually felt him flinch. “Considering the fact that you were a little… vocal about religion and heaven and hell, and Carlisle who used to be a hunter - I thought that my safety was more important at the time.”

Bella can still remember that day in the clearing, fists clenched tight,  _ “Rot” _ written on her palm should Edward make the wrong movement. She remembered hastily wiping it off with her sweat, smearing the words, breaking the spell before it was cast.

Alice and Jasper had taken to cleaning up the mess, while Rosalie, Esme, and Emmett stepped out to make sure that no one stumbled upon them. No one will, Bella knew. She already set up wards long before she stepped inside the studio.

“And now?” Edward asked, tracing the blackened skin with his cold dead hands. “This wasn’t a move made by someone thinking that their safety was important at the time. Rather reckless.”

Bella breathed Edward’s scent, or lack of. “He was going to hurt my mother, and you. No one hurts what’s mine.”

Carlisle shook his head, something like understanding dawning in his expression. “So you’ve claimed us.”

“I have,” Bella replied, meeting his golden eyes. She knew what hers probably looked like, pitless and black. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, but I fear what is to become of us should we cross you.” Carlisle broke the gaze. “A witch’s anger is a terrible thing, so are their curses.”

“It is.” Bella looked at the sliver of moonlight through thick drapes. “But a curse goes two ways.”

Edward’s arms were around Bella now, hard and cold. “Then, if I’m going to be cursed, I’d rather it be with you.”

Something warm fluttered in Bella’s hurt, and spreading like gold in her veins. She can’t think of anything to say, anything profound to tell. Instead, she nuzzled Edward’s neck, a parody of a vampire biting their victim’s neck, but he did not flinch nor did he make any movements that meant he was uncomfortable.

There was one thing that Bella can think to say, and she knew it would be enough. For now.

“Thank you.”


End file.
